One person's trash is another's treasure......

We've all heard that saying before, that one person's trash is another person's treasure. I must admit, I never really understood how anyone could want something another person had thrown out, because when I throw something away, it truly cannot be reused for anything. But some people have a very strange idea of what is considered "trash." If you don't believe me, just visit a local Salvation Army Thrift Shop.

Yesterday, for grins and giggles (and because we had nothing else to do), my sister and I went to the Salvation Army Thrift Shop in Greensburg, PA. I was amazed at the stuff there. Some of the clothes still had store tags on them because they had clearly never been worn. I got a pair if designer jeans for $2. They didn't even look like they had been worn. I bought my son a motorized car and a carrier for his hot wheels cars, each were a whopping $1.49. Brand new in the store, those things cost around $30 each. They barely looked like they had ever been played with, and I know how rough my child is on toys, so whoever had them either took excellent care of them, or never used them.

One of the workers told us they have a few regulars who donate every few months. She told us these are people who buy a completely new wardrobe every 2-3 months. It blew my mind. I mean, I know there are people who do this, but I am not one of them. I still have a wool skirt I bought during a trip to New York City 13 years ago! And on average, most of my clothes are several years old. Until they get too worn to wear, I wear them. I've never been a slave to fashion, so it doesn't bother me that my shoes aren't the latest style or my dress isn't that cool flowery print that is all the rage right now. I don't care. As long as my butt isn't hanging out, I'm happy. Even if I could afford it, I see no point in buying brand new jeans when there's nothing wrong with the pair I just bought 2 months ago. But I guess if it weren't for these folks, then people who truly couldn't afford a new pair of jeans wouldn't get such great used stuff.

Stress vs. Happiness

" We live longer than our forefathers; but we suffer more from a thousand artificial anxieties and cares. They fatigued only the muscles, we exhaust the finer strength of the nerves." ~Edward George Bulwer-Lytton

Have you ever had one of those days where you wanted to pull your own hair out.....or someone else's....or both? I have been having a lot of those days lately, so much so that I have turned into a very unhappy person. I'm stressed about caring for my son (who requires a little more care than the average toddler), I'm stressed about working from home (because that has turned into more of a job and more working hours than I ever really wanted) and I am stressed about being so stressed all the time. It's to the point I think some days I might just have a stroke and be done with it.

My husband, the straightforward man that he is, told me last night that I needed to figure out what it is that will make me happy, and then DO IT. For my husband, life is either black or white. There are no shades of gray. So we often have very different ideas of how to solve problems, which can just add to my frustration. Sometimes, I just want to smack him upside the head (and pull his hair out) when he says stuff like that. But then I got to thinking and realized that he had a good point. So I'm in the process of figuring out what it is that will really make me happy. It's funny, because you'd think I'd automatically know the answer to that question, but I don't. I'm not sure anyone has ever asked me that before. Usually, people are so consumed with what will make them happy, they lose site of what others need.

Love thy neighbor...even when you'd rather strangle them.......

We've all heard the teaching "Love your neighbor as yourself."

I must admit, in the last four years, that has been awfully hard for us to do with a particular neighbor who lives right next to us. These folks are definitely not good Christians, and they like to get drunk, party until all hours of the night and threaten to shoot each other on their front lawns. Then there's the suspected drug dealing going on. Oh, and did I mention they have two small children?

I've tried to be nice, and I don't think I've ever spoken an unkind word to them. But there are definitely days when I'd like to smack them both upside the head.

We found out recently they are moving at the end of the month. You'd think I'd be doing cartwheels, but I'm not. Seems that since they are moving, they figure they can be 40 times more annoying than usual in the time they have left. Among the stellar neighborly things they've been doing is letting their two dogs poop in our yard. I know sometimes animals do their own thing, but these folks are actually walking their dogs into our yards, letting them poop, and then leaving. They've even had the nerve to do it while we're outside and can plainly SEE them doing it. A few times my husband has gone down and politely told them that if they were going to let their dogs poop in our yard, they needed to clean up after themselves. But that's been the extent of it.

All I know is June 30 can't come soon enough. Hopefully the next people who move into that house will be a lot easier to love.

Mud, mud everywhere....

I think it's safe to say that I am generally the type of person who doesn't find being covered in bubbling mud.....fun. I know, I know. I'm a party pooper. But there's just something about mucky, smelly goop being in my hair, on my clothes and on every square inch of my body that just isn't appealing to me.

But my son, he loved it.

We went to the Children's Museum in Pittsburgh Sunday to spend the afternoon. Last time we were there, The Backyard exhibit was closed because it was still winter and cold. This time, my husband and son headed straight there. Part of the exhibit is a bubbling vat of pottery clay. It's bubbling so high that even walking past it, you get splatted (as I unfortunately found out). My son dove right in....literally. So less than 2 minutes into our trip there, he was already destroyed. I was smart enough to bring a change of clothes with us, but that was for the water play area. Now, we had used our spare supply. My poor husband wasn't so lucky. He was covered in it, too, and he had no change of clothes. I must say, THAT I found amusing. :)

I still don't know how this vat of muddy gunk was supposed to be entertaining, but my son loved it, so I guess that's all that matters.

You always know who the real fans are......

....when your team loses.

That's right, I said loses. That would be the exact opposite of WINS.

The Pens put up quite a fight for the Stanley Cup, and in my mind, we should all be proud of them, even though they lost last night's game and in effect, their chance at the cup this year. I am proud of their effort and they all deserve a pat on the back. And I don't even like hockey that much. Shhh....don't tell my husband. He's Canadian. Canadian = mandatory hockey loving. :)

I actually heard a so-called fan badmouth the team today, saying they didn't try hard enough. I had the urge to shoulder check the guy. How could he even say such a thing? For crying out loud, you had a player (Ryan Malone) who was playing with a nose he had broken 3 TIMES in just over a month! The man couldn't breathe, but he was out there skating his bum off, playing like a madman. How is that not dedication? If I had a broken nose, I'd be sitting whining on the bench and refusing to play. Poor Sidney Crosby got the equivalent of a concussion early in the game when he got slammed into the boards. He took a break, then went right back in. I'm sorry, but that's dedication, and that's worthy of praise even if they didn't bring home the cup.

Thankfully, the fans in attendance at the arena last night paid homage to their team, chanting "Let's Go Pens" during a standing ovation, even after their devastating loss.

My old high school football coach used to say that you can always tell a real fan from a fair-weather fan---real fans will be there, rain or shine, win or lose, just to cheer you on and salute you for your effort. Fair weather fans only cheer when you're winning.

OK, so I was wrong. Sue me......

OK, so I'll admit it. I was wrong. My husband is probably marking his calendar as we speak, because everyone knows I rarely admit to being wrong. When my husband said he was going to watch the Pens game last night, I told him not to waste his time, they were going to lose. The last time a team managed to come from behind under these same circumstances and win the Stanley Cup was 66 years ago. I didn't see it happening again. So I went to bed.

Imagine my surprise when my husband told me this morning they'd won----in triple overtime! I was happy for them, but I also am not getting too excited just yet. They still have to win the last two games to win the cup. (I know, I'm such an optimist, aren't I?) But darn it, maybe they can do it. Or maybe I just jinxed them. That's it! I need to start declaring that they're going to lose, then go to bed. Maybe that's the key to their success! Yeah, I know. I'm superstitious. :)

GO PENS!

Hockey players are just like toddlers......

I came to the conclusion last night----as my husband and I watched the Pens vs. the Red Wings in game 4 of the Stanley Cup Finals----that hockey players are just like toddlers. Now, before any diehard hockey fans get all offended, hear me out.

We were halfway through the first period when I commented to my husband about why one of the players was in time out. Now, for anyone who knows hockey terminology, you know that it's called a penalty, not time out. I knew that, I really did. But it had been a long day, I was tired, and hey, I'm the mother of a 2 year old. Time out is a phrase we use often here! My husband corrected me and laughed endlessly at my misuse of the word. But then I got to thinking. Maybe it should be called a time out box---or as Super Nanny would say, the "naughty chair"---- instead of the penalty box. Think about it for a minute.

If you have kids, you know that some of the major offenses time outs are used to correct include hitting, throwing things, bad language, fighting, tripping and just plain being naughty. Now, stop and think about all the major penalties in hockey: hitting, throwing (usually a hockey stick in an inappropriate manner), bad language, fighting, tripping and just plain being naughty. I put my toddler in time out for 2 minutes, because you're supposed to do a minute for every year of his age. Penalties last for 2 minutes (usually, unless they are really, really serious offenses). Sound familiar? Ha ha! It's not so crazy, now is it?

So NHL folks, I really think I'm on to something here. Maybe if you called it the Naughty Chair Box or the Time Out Box, the players would be embarrassed and start behaving a little bit better. Or, maybe not.